


Some other beginning's end

by holograms



Category: Drunk History, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Infidelity, Jealousy, Mild Sexual Content, Pregnancy, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 17:40:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10036556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holograms/pseuds/holograms
Summary: Burr explains there are rules — Alex just can't come off a boat and start making waves. She can't break the rules; that's never worked for Burr, she obeys what's expected of her and eventually, she will get what she desires. She tells Alex that if she does the best she can, someone will notice. If she waits.“I'm not going to wait for someone to notice me,” Alex says, smiling. “I'm going to make them notice me.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thinksideways](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinksideways/gifts).



> For thinksideways, who requested the Drunk History versions of hamburr where they're ladies.
> 
> This AU — canon history time, but women do things they didn't do at the time, like join the army, etc. However, there's still not total equality, etc, as it is now in modern time. So.
> 
> Title is from "Closing Time" aka the hamburr song LMM scream-sang on television.

“Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir? — oh.  I mean, _ma’am_.”

_She's perfect_ is Burr’s first thought when she turns to look at the woman who stopped her on the street. All bright smiles and the sense of an organized mess that's somehow endearing, down to the hair falling out of her ribbon to her finely-made rumpled jacket. A lady in the way that Burr is herself. She's bold, and Burr likes that, and instead of the snap-reaction _who’s asking?_ she had been formulating she says, “Yes, that's me.”

Aaron. The name of her father, because it's just as honorable to have a daughter carry your name and legacy as it is for a son—

—or so it's said.

The lady introduces herself as _Alexandra Hamilton but please call me Alex, that's what my friends call me_ and Burr laughs at the assumption.

“I don't even know you,” she says.

“Not yet,” Alex replies, “but ladies like us — we need to stick together. Solidarity. Speaking of, how did you graduate so fast? I need to do that too…”

And the more she talks, Burr feels that this is too dangerous, too close, and she goes to leave. Makes a comment about her dead parents that would make anyone get the message to politely fuck off but no, not Alex.

“You're an orphan? I'm an orphan!” she says, and then she says something else, and then somehow — Burr is offering to buy her a drink.

It's funny how these things go.

 

\--

 

“Don't be jealous,” Alex says as she drops into the chair next to Burr, tosses her hat on the table. “I was just hanging out with the guys—”

“I'm not jealous,” Burr says, sullen, because she's actually quite jealous. The _guys_ have teased her for ages for being smart even though that shouldn’t goddamn matter — she _is_ smarter than them but they can't handle that — and they've thrown words like _frigid_ at her when she doesn't joke along with them. But Alex Hamilton comes waltzing in from nowhere and they accept her as one of their own.

So, yeah. She's jealous.

“Uh-huh.” Alex seems unconvinced. She leans in, sets her beer on the table. Spills some. “Listen, Aaron.”

“Burr.”

Alex rolls her eyes. “Whatever. _Burr,_ ” she says, and her name shouldn't sound that good on her tongue. “You just have to loosen up some. They don't understand what it's like, for us. They're in-tim-i-da-ted by you,” each syllable annunciated slowly through her drunken slur. “You're fucking brilliant and you know it, and you're _so_ gorgeous. You have it all.”

Burr flushes. It must be the alcohol. “Stop that.”

“You know it's true. Us ladies might be able to do as we please, choose what we do with our lives. But men don't like it when we get _too_ good at things they like, too,” Alex explains. “They’d like to see all of us in skirts and at home, knitting.”

“I like to knit,” Burr mutters. She's quite good at it too.

Alex sighs and rubs her face. “That's not my point and you know it.”

“Of course.” Burr knows what she means. Sure, some women choose to stay home and have that sort of life, and that's respectable and fine. But some do not, and that's fine too. Men and women can share the same spaces — the military, government, education — and have relations with whomever. It's said there's equality, but there isn't. Women can wear practical breeches and boots, and work alongside men but men always seem to be richer and more successful. Burr has been overlooked for so many things that she rightfully should have had, and sadly, that's common among many women. They're always near, but never in the room where it happens.

“But that's going to change,” Alex says. “I have plans.” Burr knows them — Alex nearly shouted them loud enough for everyone to hear in the bar. “I am not throwing away my shot to make something of myself just because of some stupid social construct.”

Burr explains there are rules — Alex just can't come off a boat and start making waves. She can't break the rules; that's never worked for Burr, she obeys what's expected of her and eventually, she will get what she desires. She tells Alex that if she does the best she can, someone will notice. If she waits.

“I'm not going to wait for someone to notice me,” Alex says, smiling. “I'm going to _make_ them notice me.”

And then she puts her hand on Burr’s thigh and squeezes and _oh._

Alex leans in and whispers in Burr’s ear, “I know who I want to take me home.”

 

\--

 

Burr must admit that Alex’s initiative gets her places.

Such as: her head between Burr’s thighs.

Alex had said, “Take me back to your place,” then laughed and added, “I’d offer, but I haven't got anywhere to stay,” and Burr had felt drunk enough and charmed enough to say, “Oh, so that's why you came on to me? You only want a bed to sleep in?”

And Alex smiled, said, “I don't want _just_ to sleep in your bed,” and she pushed Burr into an alley and kissed her like she couldn't wait one more second, and Burr kissed her back, and Burr noticed her — there's no doubt about it — and she _wants._

So, Burr took Alex home and Alex isn't for niceties — for which, Burr is glad — she guided Burr to the bedroom like it was hers and undressed Burr with a confidence (unbuttoned her breeches and lifted her shirt over her head and kissed her nipples and called her _beautiful_ ), and then stripped off her own clothes and hardly gave Burr any time to appreciate her before she tackled her to the bed.

She goes down on Burr without being asked. It's like she's eager to get her mouth on her. She kisses and nips at the softest part of her thighs and looks up at Burr, looking for the permission — or a challenge. Burr puts her hand in Alex’s hair and spreads her legs further apart and Alex moans at the sight and, oh, her mouth. She knows how to use it other than talk (and kiss) and Burr thinks how odd it is that life can change so quickly — she met Alex today and almost dismissed her, almost didn't have this—

—didn't have her eating her out with enthusiasm, so much that she's twisting her hands in the sheets, can't help the sounds she makes. Alex licks around her fingers buried inside her and when she curves them up and rubs, Burr gasps, grinds down on Alex’s fingers and she's almost _almost_ there. She feels Alex’s laugh on her skin and she dips her head down and licks her clit in just the right away and Burr comes, which is wonderful, but what's even better is how Alex lazily crawls up next to her and kisses her gently, almost shy, and moans against Burr’s mouth when Burr slips her hand between her legs. She's slick and so _so_ needy and then there's wet on Burr’s fingers and Alex comes quietly — a surprise — except for her panting in Burr’s ear.

After, Alex’s sweaty body curls next to Burr’s, rests her hand on her chest.

“You can stay,” Burr mumbles.

Alex kisses her neck. “I was,” she says. Kisses again. “Remember? I have nowhere else to go.”

Burr closes her eyes, assured.

 

\--

 

What Burr has with Alex is good. Alex never bothers to find her own place because staying with Burr is convenient — or so both say — and they study and fuck and argue, but it's perfect.

“We’ll always have each other,” Alex says. Promises.

Burr doubts that. Alex seems liable to leave the moment she finds something more interesting — or worthwhile.

 

\--

 

Burr was correct. It doesn't last long.

The war starts, and Alex leaves as soon as she can. She goes to war and Burr does, too.

They go their separate ways; they could never be together as it were, anyway. The night before Burr leaves they stay up late with each other, fucking and talking.

“We’ll see each other after the war,” Burr says.

Alex makes a sound. Agreement? Noncommittal. Burr wonders Alex if has any plans, after — what if the war was her only _plan_?

\--

Burr does see Alex again, and she's so angry that she can't even enjoy it. Alex smiles at her and then looks back to Washington, says, “Yes, we've met,” and then Washington asks to speak to Alex, alone—

—and Alex gets what Burr has worked for, too easily. It was supposed to be _her._

 

\--

 

“I'm happy for you,” Burr says. Not quite a lie, she's happy for her fellow lady — a lady, as the General’s aide-de-camp — but…

Alex smiles. She knows she's done well.

“I told you I'd make myself noticed.” She tucks a strand of Burr’s hair behind her ear. “I've missed you, Burr.”

Burr flinches. It's been months since they've been together. So much has happened. She's killed, been injured, fought death.

“I've missed you, too,” Burr says and it’s too easy — Alex leads her to her private tent, strips her of her uniform. It's quick and rough, kissing each other silent as they get each other off with their fingers. Familiar.

 

\--

 

Alex says, “I thought you didn't break rules.”

Burr says, “I see one worth breaking.”

And how could Alex stay away after that?

 

\--

 

Alex gets married.

Eli Schuyler is a good match for Alex’s prospects. The second son from a rich family. Kind, handsome, clever enough.

Burr likes to think that Alex doesn't love him — that she's only using the marriage to further her name.

Doesn't want him.

Burr is late to the wedding, missing the ceremony entirely, and arrives at the reception already drunk. She almost leaves when Washington mentions how, “charming Hamilton is in her uniform,” and Burr nearly snarls in anger because she doesn't understand those two, but then she looks over to where Washington gestures and—

Alex notices her right away, pulls her over to talk to the guys. Alex does look good; her military uniform sharp and a simple white bow in her hair. Perfectly Alex.

Alex shoos the men away, pulls her aside. Her cheeks are flushed pink, and Burr forgets for a moment that she's angry with her.

“I'm glad you showed up,” Alex says. Touches Burr’s shoulder. “I looked for you, earlier—”

“Why’d you marry him?”

Alex sighs. “You know. I had to marry, in order to—”

“Right.”

“ _Burr.”_ Alex pulls Burr further away from the crowd, hidden. “You know how it is. Eli isn't… We can still see each other.” She kisses Burr’s cheek, prying.

“Do you like him?”

“He's fine,” Alex whispers. “He's charming and nice looking and he gets all flustered at my letters but — but he isn't you, Aaron.”

“Exactly.”

Alex presses her forehead to hers, her breath hot on her face.

“Please,” she begs. “We were supposed to do this, together.”

Her kisses feel different.

“Don't leave me alone,” Alex begs.

Burr doesn't mention that she isn't the one distancing herself.

 

\--

 

On Burr’s leave, she meets Theodosia. Married — all the best women are, apparently.

It doesn't stop her from engaging in affair with her.

 

\--

 

It doesn't stop her from having one with Alex, too.

She doesn't tell her about Theodosia.

They don't have much time to talk. Alex is passionate — from the war, of course — and brilliant, too. She has good ideas like them having their mouths on each other at the same time. It's lovely, their bodies pressed against each other and having Alex’s thighs shake next to her head as she licks into Alex, and Alex matching the pattern of her tongue against her.

She isn't able to give Alex up.

However, Alex has no problem leaving to be with her husband.

Aaron visits Theodosia when that happens.

 

\--

 

It’s fine, until Alex tells her a secret she wishes she kept to herself—

“I'm with child.”

Burr blinks. “I don't know what you expect me to say.”

“Nothing.” Burr can't tell if she's upset or not. “I’m just letting you know because...I don't know. I can't tell anyone else. Eli doesn't even know.”

“You need to tell him.” A pause. “And you shouldn't be here in your condition—”

“That's bullshit. I can perform my job just as well.”

“Don't you think someone will notice, eventually?” Burr asks and it's ironic, because Alex loves for people to notice her.

Alex shrugs. “Perhaps the war will be over by then.” As if she can control such matters.

She makes Burr so angry sometimes she could shoot her.

 

\--

 

But she cares for Alex. They're in this together, after all. She shares her rations with Alex, which Alex declines at first but as weeks pass her nausea passes and she willingly takes the food, and any other Burr scrounges for.

And Alex’s appetite for other things increases — dragging Burr into tents and into empty fields for sex whenever she gets a spare moment away.

“Don't you think they’ll know soon?” Burr asks. Months pass, and there's still a war. It feels sometimes as though there will always be a war.

But in the dead of night in Alex’s tent, it feels like peace, for a moment.

She puts a hand to Alex’s stomach. She hopes the war will end soon.

Alex lets out a long sigh, and scoots closer to Burr.

“I'm sure they already have,” Alex says. “I've changed with the men and bathed in the river with them.”

“They don't look at us when we’re exposed, you know that.” They don't, not Alex or Burr or any of the other women.

Alex hums. “Possibly.” She turns on her side, and Burr can tell that she's done with that conversation.

“Laurens has told me something interesting,” she says and Burr feels bit of jealousy there, she always will.

“Oh?”

“Yes. He says you've been spending quite a lot of time with a lady named Theodosia. She's married to a British officer, but is helping our cause. Do you know her?”

Burr swallows. “I was quartered in her home. She was pleasant to talk to. I've visited a few times.”

Many times.

“I see.” Alex runs her hand down Burr’s side.  “He suggested that you and this lady had something intimate brewing, which I told him was ridiculous because you would never knowingly carry something on with a married woman…”

“If you have something to ask, ask it.” Burr won't lie, not when it's Alex insinuating this, of all people.

Alex counters with, “If you have something to tell, tell it.”

Burr sits up. “You went home to your _husband._ Did you expect me to wait for you when you didn't do the same for me?”

And Alex is — furious.

“So it's true.” She wants to keep talking, but Burr is already dressing, shoving her legs into her breeches, won't listen—

She keeps talking anyway.

“I told you it was different. And you hid this from me, you knew it was wrong—”

“I don't have to tell you anything,” Burr says. She jams her foot into her boot. “You're selfish, using me and Eli. You only care about yourself. You say that we’re in this together but you overstepped me on my chance, and you'd gladly do it again. Our relationship has never been anything than a temporary thing for you.”

“That's not true — what we had, it was different—”

“ _Was_?” asks Burr and she turns and leaves Alex stumbling over an explanation.

 

\--

 

“I thought you should know, Sir.”

Burr feels awful doing it, but it's for Alex’s own good, truly—

Washington nods. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Lieutenant-Colonel.”

 

\--

 

It doesn't feel honorable when Alex is sent home later that day, and it doesn't feel like vengeance either.

“You did this,” Alex says. She glances around. Everyone looks at her differently, now. “You're selfish, too, Aaron Burr.”

Burr raises her brow. “So you admit it about yourself?”

Alex curses at her, and leaves.

A sergeant makes a disrespectful comment regarding the cause of Alex’s attitude — her _mood swing._

Burr punches him, breaks his nose.

 

\--

 

However, the war will not end without Alex Hamilton, and she's called back a month and a half later for the battle of Yorktown.

She's given a new uniform with a wider waist — five months are showing — and she's given a weapon and a battlefield commission.

_Battle will make the child fierce,_ they say, and Alex says, _good._

 

\--

 

They win, of course.

Burr finds Alex, after. Alex is smiling — all is forgiven.

She pulls Burr into a hug, kisses her neck. Nothing is thought of it, amongst the others.

She whispers, “I missed you.”

Burr laughs. “I knew you couldn't stay away. We had to finish this together.”

 

\--

 

After the war, it’s a new world. Things change, as they must. They both go back to New York, but in their separate ways. Alex has her child, and Burr marries the newly widowed Theodosia. Burr finishes her studies independently and hears Alex does the same.

For a while, she can almost forget Alex — it was another time, different circumstances. She supposes that she won't see Alex anymore. It's better that way, to lose her all at once.

 

\--

 

That is, until Alex strolls into Burr’s legal office one day and says, “Guess what? I'm working next door!”

And as Alex kisses her — right there at her desk, she can never deny her, doesn't want to — she thinks, _interesting_.


End file.
